Lost in London
by Fiorea
Summary: While attempting to complete a ridiculous mission for the Headmaster, Hermione Granger loses Severus Snape in Muggle London. A story of how their mutual hate towards the old coot will pave the way to camaraderie. AU
1. You Lost Who?

**Summary: **While attempting to complete a ridiculous mission for the Headmaster, Hermione Granger loses Severus Snape in Muggle London. A story of how their mutual hate for the old coot will pave the way to camaraderie. AU…some.

**You Lost Who? **

Where is he? Where is he? _Where is he?_

Hermione was almost in hysterics. Snape. Oh God. She had lost Snape. It was ridiculous. How could she lose someone, not figuratively but literally, physically? She was too sensible to let that happen. She _should_ be too sensible to let that happen. But she had lost Snape, in Muggle London.

Snape…she groaned. He was going to slaughter her. Slaughter her, not for being an insufferable know-it-all, but for being an idiot and losing him. In Muggle London.

Maybe she could say that he lost her…

* * *

><p>They had been sent by the Headmaster to London to procure Muggle objects, Muggle electronics if you want to go into details. But now really wasn't a good time to get stuck on details.<p>

Albus had somehow gotten into his head that Hogwarts should improve its Muggle Studies program by introducing every-day objects from the Muggle world (_real_ Muggles?). *Snort* It must have been Arthur Weasley's influence.

So, he had requested Hogwart's only Muggleborn professor, Professor Hermione Granger, to complete the assignment. And Professor Severus Snape had tagged along, _unwillingly_ of course, also at Dumbledore's 'request'. He had wisely suggested a little sun would help the Potions Master's complexion.

Really now, if he wanted to order people to do something, he should just order them. No point in being polite about it.

But acquiring the (real) Muggle objects wasn't the end of the assignment. Someone (*cough*Arthur*cough) had convinced him that once they had those objects at hand, they should be introduced as they are in the Muggle world. As in _functioning_.

Everyone knows Muggle electronics don't work in magical settings. There had been many Muggleborn or Muggle-raised first year students in the past who had carried Muggle electronics to the school. They had all discovered that electronics stopped working as soon as they arrived at Platform 9 and 3/4. Then they would start working again for the few hours on the train to Hogsmeade, but died again around an hour before arriving at the station. Those disappointed students had all ended up leaving their MP3 players, iPods, Nintendo Gameboys, mobiles, electronic dictionaries, and many other useful items at the bottom of their trunks to collect dust, or they had been confiscated by Filch to add to his Confiscated Muggle Thingamajigs stash of which he was quite proud of due to the rarity of such fascinating items, not that he knew what they did.

To recap, the very kind and insane Headmaster of Hogwarts had 'requested' Hermione Granger and Severus Snape to buy Muggle electronics and make them work.

Quite simple, really. Except not.

Snape had asked why they couldn't simply ask the Room of Requirement. It was a brilliant suggestion, as expected from a brilliant man. But they were devastated when they discovered that the Room didn't know what Muggle electronics were and therefore couldn't conjure them. Hmph! It had been a good laugh though. The Room had tried very, very hard and managed to produce Muggle items from the Middle Ages and some from even earlier that that. Much earlier. These were items which the wizarding world also used, such as swords, suit of armors, horse-drawn carriages, wooden boats, a castle, _the_ _wheel_.

You had to appreciate all the effort the Room put in to fulfill their request. Too bad everything had been a bit outdated.

Then they asked Filch if he would be willing to share some of his stash. He just had Mrs. Norris hiss at them, even Snape. ("Nobody touches my winnings!")

Therefore, they had sulked out of the castle with Albus cheerfully seeing them off, probably to make sure they didn't circle around to the back of the castle. He had even told them to _enjoy themselves_. Hah, they would be enjoying themselves much more if we didn't have to run around in Muggle London like headless chickens.

Now, the First Step was to get to Muggle London. That was easy; just go through the Leaky Cauldron. Next was to find a store carrying electronics. That was easy too, or it should have been, until she lost Snape. Goodness, they had barely started Step Two and everything had fallen apart. Weren't they supposed to be two of the most intelligent people in the wizarding world? One had a Potions Mastery and the other a Charms Mastery.

So now she was here, in the middle of Muggle London, without Snape. Poor man. Though, she had to admit, he did look quite sharp in the stylish Muggle clothing he had chosen for himself. Never in a million years would she have expected him to have a good sense of style. Just look at his regular wizarding attire…

Sigh. Well, there was no use crying over spilled milk. She would have to make good use of her time searching for him. She headed to the electronics store they had chosen beforehand. On to Step Three: decide which electronics to buy.

She had already made a short mental list as soon as she received the 'request'. It was best to start out simple: batteries, radios, lamps, clocks, flashlights, Muggle cameras, and battery-run toys. Oh, and a laptop, because that would be really helpful for keeping her research documents and references organized. It would be infinitely better than stacks of parchment.

Step Four: She purchased several of each, including two rather high-end laptops. If she got them to function, Snape would appreciate one. It would be her apology for losing him.

Oh, that's right. Snape was still lost. He apparently hadn't found the store, and she didn't know where to look. Muggle mobiles would be incredibly helpful in these situations. She'd have to get a few of those too and get them to work in Hogwarts. She would even set up her own wireless network if needed! It should have been easy with magic, except for the little detail of magic being the main problem.

Well, what would be the next best course of action? Stay at the store and wait for him to find it? Or venture out to find him? Hmmm…

He was a smart man (a Potions Master) with a very logical mind. He should be capable of asking for directions and following those directions to the store. She should be able to count on him to be intelligent, both in the wizarding world and in Muggle London. Then again, she had thought herself too sensible to lose Snape.

Best stay in one spot and have him find her at the store.

* * *

><p>She waited and waited.<p>

Goodness, how difficult was it to ask for directions and follow those directions?

Oh no…it couldn't be…she hadn't thought of this problem…that he was probably too proud to admit he needed help. Was he even in London anymore?

She was about to set off in search of Snape when she caught sight of him.

Pfft!

He looked so pitifully lost. It was almost adorable.

You could see his obvious dislike of crowded places. Every time someone bumped into him, he'd jump or flinch back. Oh, the poor man. She needed to go save him.

He must have been feeling awful to have lost his snarky self (figuratively). Much worse than awful. The man had gotten through two wars without losing that bastard persona, but it had been shattered from being lost in Muggle London for two measly hours.

Pfft!

Laughing at his expense, especially in this situation, was a bit cruel, but she couldn't help it. Snape was so rarely caught off guard, and she had never seen it this bad. When it did happen, he would usually cover it up with roaring anger. Anger more terrifying than a troll or a basilisk or a dragon…or even Fluffy.

She had to calm herself before making her way to him or else he'd make her life hell for laughing at him, after slaughtering her of course.

Once her face had settled down, she headed in Snape's direction to 'rescue' him. The poor damsel in distress. *Snort* She almost doubled up in laughter. Now she was leaning heavily against a lamp post, trying to control her breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Slowly.

She finally collected herself and lightly tapped Snape on his shoulder from behind. He jumped and spun around, looking as if he was about to hex her with his wand. She was thankful that he had kept his wandless magic in check.

"Hello, Professor Snape," Was all she could think of to say. The corners of her mouth began to twitch.

"Professor Granger…"

"…Professor Granger," he took a deep, pained breath and tried again, "I sincerely apologise for losing sight of you."

She couldn't help but break into hysterical laughter.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Like?_


	2. Mental Connections

**Mental Connections **

When they arrived back at Hogwarts with their Muggle loot, Snape was seething and Hermione's fear of Snape was morphing into fury towards Dumbledore.

Whose idea was it to buy Muggle objects? Arthur Weasley.

Whose _disastrous_ idea was it to send Professors Hermione Granger and Severus Snape to Muggle London to 'enjoy themselves'? Albus Dumbledore, the old coot.

They were back and livid and exhausted and about ready to storm the Headmaster's office. They glanced at each other and, for a moment, mentally connected.

_Attack Dumbledore it is._

Mutual hate can be the foundation for a very prosperous, long-lasting friendship.

So they charged, past the gates, through the main doors, through the Entrance Hall, and up the stairs. They both reached the gargoyle at the base of Dumbledore's office at the same time and looked at each other again. Another mental connection.

"Chocolate Frogs-"

"Canary Cream-"

"Acid Pops-"

"Jelly Slugs-"

"Pepper Imps-"

"Lemon Drops-"

"Cauldron Cakes-"

"Exploding bon-bons-"

"Chocoballs-"

"Fudge Flies-"

"…-"

They had finally exhausted their remaining combined brainpower. Now onto their magical reserves:

"_Reducto_!"

"_Diffindo_!"

"_Depulso_!"

"_Confringo_!"

"_Sectumsempra_!" They both bellowed.

They stared. Nothing worked. Bloody gargoyle.

"Albus!" Snape roared, "Open this door now, or I will slip you a potion which makes your hair fall off. Everything single hair!"

Hermione sniggered. "I wouldn't mind seeing that."

The gargoyle, with not even a single scratch, suddenly leaped aside as if set on fire. The two had a third moment of mental connection and marched up the stairs. They arrived at the office, wands out, about to _hex_ the Headmaster's hair off.

"Why, welcome back!" Dumbledore greeted cheerfully. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"

"Albus…." Snape growled, his canines bared threateningly.

"I am so glad you two made it back safely," His twinkle diminishing slightly. "Tell me all about your tr-"

"_Headmaster,_" Hermione sliced through his words acidly. Her usual tone of respect was blaringly absent.

The room temperature dropped several degrees.

"Well…you seem rather tired," Dumbledore's smile now began to look forced, finally realising the danger he was in. "Shall I let you two retire for the night?"

Trying to regain her calm, and failing, she dumped their purchases on Dumbledore's desk with a loud clank, on top of his organized mess of papers. Oh, was that something important that just fell off the desk? "We have completed your 'request'," Hermione bit out. "We certainly _enjoyed ourselves _today. We would be happy to 'discuss' our adventures with you."

"Yes, Albus," Snape purred, all velvet and steel, "We had such a _delightful _time today, and it would be our pleasure to share with you what we have learned of Muggle London," Snape continued with a barely-suppressed, nasty smirk. "I believe tomorrow after breakfast is an opportune time for us to take another field trip."

"Ahh, thank you for your kind offer, but…I seem to recall a meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning…" Dumbledore improvised, his eyes shifting nervously between the two smirking professors. "I-I believe with Minerva…"

"Oh wonderful!" Hermione said with mock excitement. "I'm sure Professor McGonagall would _love_ to join us."

"Y-Yes…about that…it is a matter that must be taken care of within the castle…" Dumbledore's face took on a falsely grave expression. "It seems we have discovered an…emergency situation. It needs to be seen to immediately," He regained some of his confidence. "The danger it poses may be detrimental to the school. We shall discuss this matter at a later date."

"What a shame-" Snape started again, eyes glittering dangerously and defiantly.

The Headmaster cut in quickly before Snape could say more. "Ah, I believe Fawkes is feeling a bit under the weather. I must examine him immediately. Have a pleasant evening. Good night," And with that, he rushed out with as much dignity as he could.

Silence.

Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait snickered. "Well done, it has been quite a while since I have seen Albus so unhinged. He didn't even have a moment to offer you those galling lemon drops of his," He snorted. "You two have earned my utmost respect. Yes, even you, Gryffindor. I hope to see another such show in the near future."

Hermione and Snape both deflated. Their cold anger had seeped away to irritation and exhaustion. Hermione collapsed into a chair while Snape leaned back against the wall. They shared an odd moment of quiet triumph. Only the steady ticking of an unknown magical instrument interrupted the silence.

"I believe there is nothing more we can accomplish tonight. Shall we go?" Snape finally said in resignation. He straightened his posture, a blank face. It was like a chalk board which had been wiped clean. No expression other than its dark background.

Hermione picked up the bag of Muggle electronics from the desk and nodded, too tired to speak. They headed down the steps wearily and past the infuriating gargoyle which seemed to watch them leave with amusement. Before they separated to their private quarters, Hermione hesitated and inquired softly, "Would you be free to meet up tomorrow, after lunch, to fiddle with these?" She raised the bag.

Snape paused in thought. "Yes, I am available," Then briskly, "We shall meet in the Room of Requirement after lunch and examine them to the best of our abilities."

"There are several things in here that would be helpful to our daily lives if we succeed in getting them to work," Hermione added sheepishly. "I thought that if we had to suffer Muggle London, we should at least get something out of it. See you tomorrow then?"

"Very well," He turned stiffly and stalked down to the dungeons.

"Good night…" She returned softly with a tired smile.

Mutual hate indeed.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Fawkes, sick? Hah! _

_Review!_


	3. Coffee

**Coffee **

Snape the Bastard was back. Sigh.

And he seemed to be compensating for yesterday's humiliation.

He had snapped at the poor 2nd year who had diligently woken up for breakfast on a Sunday. He had snarked at Professor McGonagall who merely gave him a clipped "Good morning to you too," and turned around to talk to Professor Sprout. He had snarled at Professor Trelawny for asking him to Hogsmeade the following Saturday. And then he had sneered at Hermione for just being there.

Was this going to be a problem later on?

Hermione watched him closely throughout breakfast. He drank four cups of coffee, which was a very bad sign. One meant he would take 30 points off of Gryffindor at some point during the day. Two meant 40 from Gryffindor, 10 each from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and 2 detentions. Three meant he would take 60 from Gryffindor, 30 each from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, give 3 detentions, and make two girls and a boy cry. And four meant he would send you to Filch for breathing.

Snape rarely reached four, but he apparently needed it today…

The last time had been after he received a dozen roses and a sweet poem from a student on Valentine's Day. The time before that had been after the Final Battle, just to spite Madam Pomfrey for confining him to the Hospital Wing for three weeks. Unlike a typical day of teaching, he had driven students _out_ of the Hospital Wing.

This was very, very bad.

And then, the Headmaster walked into the Great Hall; Snape immediately added another cup to the four. Hermione decided she would need to get a helmet, wear a bullet proof jacket, and spend the morning reviewing very advanced, bordering on Dark, shields and wards. And also practice that new invisibility charm she had invented the week before and wanted to test out. Don't forget, she _is_ a Charms Mistress.

* * *

><p>The entire castle was panicking. Hogwarts and its inhabitants could feel the angry magic whipping around Snape, so strong that it was felt all the way to Hagrid's cabin. Fang was wimpering and cowering under the table.<p>

He had been angry during breakfast that morning, but after the fifth cup of coffee and a jovial greeting from the Headmaster, his anger had grown exponentially.

Dumbledore had then kindly offered to pour him another cup of coffee…

That was when the Headmaster's breakfast had burst into furious flames, almost singeing his precious beard. One would think that after twenty years of breakfast together, he would have learned something.

Apparently not.

The Slytherins had burst into furious laughter at the show, some cheering and one even shouting a loud whoop.

Snape had given the Slytherin table a barely-perceptible nod of appreciation before stalking out of the Great Hall, taking his roaring fury with him. The Headmaster merely sat frozen in his chair, looking relieved to have survived whatever that was. When he finally looked down at his plate, he seriously berated himself for his lapse of judgment the day before.

The fire had eaten all of his breakfast.

For the rest of the morning, everyone avoided Snape as best as they could, which was much more difficult than usual – he never stopped prowling the halls. They could all feel him approaching by the growing strength of his magic, but there were only so many unused classrooms and hidden alcoves along the halls. He was the hunter and everyone else was prey.

The castle, as a sentient entity, could feel the students' desperation. It hadn't felt such chaos since Albus had been a student. _Albus Dumbledore…_ Sometimes, you could really hate that stupid goat. Was he trying to destroy the castle? Next time the Headmaster tried to enter his office, Hogwarts decided it would lock him out for a day or two.

After giving the castle-equivalent of a sigh, it began recruiting staircases to vanishing as soon as Snape arrived and requesting the ghosts and portraits to direct scurrying students to secret passageways never before known to the Live Beings. Even Peeves took pity on the students.

But even with all the help and caution, each House aside from Slytherin lost over 300 points in the span of three hours; the Slytherins lost _only _180. It was an unprecedented amount, overshadowing the previous record by 400 points.

In conclusion, everyone would hate their beloved Headmaster if they ever discovered the cause of Professor Snape's tantrum.

This was an incident that would certainly be recorded in '_Hogwarts: a History'_.

* * *

><p>After lunch, Hermione cautiously pulled opened the portrait to the Room of Requirement and peered in. All clear; it was always a good idea to arrive anywhere before Snape. She stepped into the room and looked around.<p>

There was small clearing surrounded by large boulders, thick bushes, and stout trees, perfect for an outdoor wizards' duel. It was littered with places to hide and is that a _trench_? The clearing itself looked quite pleasant, but the rest of the room look like she was expecting a massive confrontation. Which she was, but she couldn't let Snape know that. She would be slaughtered.

She quickly stepped back out of the Room and paced back and forth. She imagined the perfect potions lab with a wide table in the middle. The temperature would be perfectly controlled, the ingredients would be organized according to his preferred system, and there would be a wide bookcase with an extensive collection of potions references. She also added several pickled jars around the room for effect. And don't forget a large pot of tea brewing off to the side.

To Snape, two cups of tea usually negated a cup of coffee.

She stepped back into the Room and looked around again. Perfect. Or, almost perfect. She would have preferred a comfortable armchair in a corner, but Snape would probably bite her head off for that. She would try after five cups of tea.

She left the portrait ajar and strolled cautiously over to the table. As quiet as possible. Almost tiptoeing. _Why? _She asked herself. _Ridiculous! He hadn't even arrived yet!_

Then she felt it.

The ominous feeling of approaching danger, with nowhere to run.

The portrait was flung wide open and Snape raged in with his magic still pulsing. Hermione bit her lip with worry for the jars within the room, as well as herself. The vials began to clank, the bookshelves began to shake. He had his glare and sneer on at full blast; his robes were billowing as if in a storm. She waited for him to shout, scream, holler – something. But he completely ignored her and swept around to plant himself on a stool.

Hmm, strange.

She was standing mere feet away but she barely felt anything malicious from his angry magic as it swirled around him. Very strange. This wasn't as bad as she had expected for five cups of coffee. He must have had a cup or three of tea sometime in between. Or maybe their truce from the mutual hate for the Headmaster was still in effect.

But that didn't mean he would be pleasant to work with – not that he was usually.

"Well, let's get on with it," The acid in his voice burned through her thoughts.

Hermione nervously set the large bag of Muggle electronics on the middle of the table and began to take things out: six packs of AA Duracell batteries, three radios, four lamps, three clocks, five flashlights, two cameras, two remote controlled toy cars, four mobile phones, and two glorious laptops.

But before they began she offered, "Can I get you some tea?"

"No."

* * *

><p><em>How many cups of coffee do you drink in the mornings? Review! I would love to know what you think.<em>


	4. Albus and Cybicles

_Now from Severus's side…_

**Albus and Cybicles **

Severus woke up Sunday morning after barely three hours of sleep. Not only had he had his customary nightmares left over from the war, but last night, Albus had been in there with the Death Eaters as well, riding rings around them on one of those Muggle things with two wheels, cybicle or bicyble or whatever it's called. He also seemed to have infected everyone including the Dark Lord – especially the Dark Lord – with his twinkling affliction. Livid, scarlet, gleaming, _twinkling_ eyes…

All in all, it was a _very_ distressing night.

Surprisingly though, he had gone to bed that night in a decent mood, even after the day's debacle. He had felt satisfyingly productive, something he typically only felt after an undisturbed day of research and brewing. But yesterday, he had survived Muggle London, accomplished their stupid mission, and almost made Albus wet himself. It was certainly a productive day.

However, a large portion of the experience had been horrifyingly embarrassing; his ego was, without a doubt, battered and bruised.

Muggle London was a jungle. He had braved real jungles before – monkeys and man-guzzling toads and all – but this jungle had worse predators everywhere. Streets packed with crazed Muggles, honking cars, violent familiars on leashes (why would anyone choose _dogs_ as familiars?), lights flashing red, yellow and green, those blasted cybicles! It felt as if everything had been closing in on him; he had never before felt so claustrophobic. If the Dark Lord hadn't been so averse to anything Muggle, he should have punished his minions by sending them to the urban Muggle world for a day.

And Granger. Granger had laughed at him! Hysterically! Him! _The _Severus Snape. Imposing black figure, billowing robes, silently appearing behind you when least expected, instilling fear in all hearts. _That_ Severus Snape…

He could almost see tears in her eyes by the time she had calmed down. Everyone had been openly staring at them too; what a disgrace.

He must be losing his touch.

So, he had barked at her to restrain herself in his most fearsome voice. That voice had caused fellow Death Eaters to shake in their boots, but it only made Granger laugh almost hysterically again. He had to shut her up somehow, so he had gripped her shoulder tightly and hissed all the ways he could make her life hell for the duration of her teaching career. That had gotten her to shut up and look at him in terror.

He hadn't lost his touch after all, he thought with glee.

Granger had then explained, while looking down at her shoes – whether in fear or to hide her laughter he didn't care to know – that she had found everything they needed. She had even respectfully squeaked whether he would like her to give him a tour of Muggle London. That was met with a growled "No!". He'd had enough of the bloody sun.

So, they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron with her sticking very close to him. She would probably have held onto his wrist if he wasn't Severus Snape. She was right in not touching him; he would have severed her arm in his current state of mind.

And his current state of mind was not pleasant – that was an extreme understatement.

He had been raised to assist a lady with her bags, but this lady was Granger know-it-all, friend of idiot Potter, obstinate troublemaker behind that studious persona, who had made _his_ life hell for seven years and the years as colleagues, and who had just laughed at him for a full seven minutes.

She deserved to hold the bags.

* * *

><p>As they closed in on the castle, he had felt something shift beside him. It was a subtle change of magic in the air which he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been a spy for years. When he chanced a glance, he saw that her face, previously stuck in an expression of a cornered mouse, had begun to morph into the expression of a livid lioness. It seemed like that ruthlessness which had led her to blackmail Rita Skeeter and ruin Umbridge the Toad was now resurfacing. And it was all directed towards Albus; it was a beautiful sight.<p>

The two of them had somehow come to the same decision.

_Attack Dumbledore it is._

They had stormed up to the gargoyle with icy anger that fueled each other's anger, they had shouted and thrown hexes at it together, and they had insulted Albus with pleasure. Then, they had stormed into his office and flung that anger at him.

Now, Granger. She had been fierce. Against her employer, no less.

They had been matched in anger and vengeance, whittling Albus' composure down to nothing. That was also a beautiful sight. He had even stuttered. Albus Dumbledore had _stuttered_. It felt like summer had come early.

The most satisfying part came next, when he had practically run out of the office. Severus had never seen something so hilarious before; he would be watching this memory in his pensieve for the rest of his life – a new source of happiness for his Patronus.

* * *

><p>Sunday morning, however, was a different matter. Albus on a cybicle had reminded him of his humiliation in Muggle London and his extreme hate for the Headmaster.<p>

During breakfast, Severus thought he only needed four cups of coffee. That should be perfect to get through the day. But then, Albus bloody Dumbledore pranced in, radiating his smiles and love all over the room. He unconsciously drank another cup of coffee.

Bugger.

Well, if Albus was going to radiate happiness, he was going to radiate something in retaliation. Fury. And fury needed to feed on something.

Too bad it missed the beard.

As Severus left, he saw Granger trying and failing to hold back her signature hysterical laughter at the Headmaster. That gained his appreciation too.

It felt good to finally have someone join him in his Albus-hating.


End file.
